Recruiting for Ragnarok
by CarpalTunnelLove
Summary: Loki needs one more to complete his plan to open the portal: the Riddler. But the Gothamite will take some...persuading. NOT SLASH. T for mild language and mentions of mature subjects.


I NEED THEM TO MEET. DC AND MARVEL SHOULD JUST DO IT ALREADY TO MAKE UP FOR THE NEW 52.

* * *

Loki watched the human from the shadows. There were plenty of them in the vast, abandoned warehouse that the Riddler absurdly favored as a base of operations.

"I know why you're here," the ginger said, suddenly. Loki stepped into the light casually.

"Is that so?"

The human turned to look at him. "You're recruiting for Ragnarok."

Loki laughed. "Is that how you see it?"

The mortal looked levelly at him, twirling his cane absently. "Yes. You've got the Tesseract, you have Selvig and some others and _'Hawkeye'_ for some reason, and you're going to open a portal to somewhere that most likely contains some sort of conquering army." He sighed, smoothing his hair with a fingerless-gloved hand. "Not a great day to be human, I'd wager. And you are, after all, _Loki Lie-Smith..._"

Loki raised an eyebrow, choosing to ignore the 'Lie-Smith' jab. "You seem to know rather more than I had expected."

Nigma scoffed. "I thought you knew me better by know; if it's on a computer, I can see it."

"And?"

"And you can piss off. Find someone else to do whatever it is you want me for." He folded his arms, glaring openly. Loki turned away, sighing, looking around in feigned apathy.

"But this is what you've always wanted, Edward. The weak, the stupid, the _worthless_-put in their proper place."

"But not like this!" The mortal urged, voice rising, "Never like _this!_"

Loki sighed. "Your loss."

"No. It's _yours._"

_Oh really?_

"Do you really think that I'll just let you do this? I'm the _Riddler._ I _will_ stop you."

Loki could hear the shift in the human's voice from desperation to determination, the movement of his hand along the polished metal of his cane.

"One way-"

He truly thought he could get the drop on a god.

"-or-"

It was almost insulting. His voice was drawing closer.

_"-another." _Loki finished for him.

He whipped around at just the perfect speed for Nigma to see exactly what happened but be powerless to stop it.

"Foolish boy."

The first bolt of energy caught the hand poised to deliver the blow, knocking it back with such force that as the cane flew from his fingers, the handle caught Nigma's face, splitting his lip. A second later, the second bolt slammed into the human's solar-plexus, winding him. He fell to his knees, gasping.

Loki smirked. _You see? You all kneel in the end._

"Have you _any_ idea how foolish that was?"

The ginger glowered up at him, holding the palm of one hand to his bleeding lip. But as Loki drew closer, he noted with intense satisfaction the trace of fear that crept into the human's eyes.

"No-" He urged, scrambling backwards, "No, you stay the hell-"

"_No."_

Loki seized his arm-eliciting a hugely gratifying yelp of shock-pulling him upright. The human had the audacity to struggle as Loki raised his staff.

"What the hell are you-" Loki couldn't help but grin wider as the expression changed from vague dread to absolute terror as the mortal realized his intentions.

"Oh god no." Fear was even clouding the mortal's _physical_ ability, as the struggling became more desperate but decidedly weaker.

_Squirm all you wish, little bug, but the boot does not feel it._

"Please," came the desperate, suddenly choked cry as Loki nudged his tie aside, "Stop, don't-"

The elegant point of the instrument touched the mortal's chest, right over his heart.

He gasped, his plea suddenly cut short. Loki sighed contentedly, feeling the power creep down into the human's body.

His hands twitched, body tensing, trembling as he tried absurdly to fight Loki's control.

"Don't fight me," Loki urged softly, rather amused and fascinated by the human's vain efforts. "Resisting will only make it painful."

Nigma made a quiet, strained sound, raising his head to glare defiantly into Loki's face. Loki pushed his magic harder, the staff's glow pulsing slightly before glowing brighter. Now he was curious.

"You chose this," he murmured, watching the mortal's eyes clench shut with pain and then snap open, terrified, as Loki began to search through his heart, his memories, his mind. "I offered a partnership. You chose _this_. Servitude."

Nigma's eyes were flickering with traces of blue, but not enough. Not yet. They were, however, full of tears, leaking down the anguished face as Loki took his time, digging deep into his heart.

"Ah...I see," Loki purred, tugging down barrier after barrier and finding the most pleasing little hidden desires and dark secrets. Manipulating this human would be child's play. "Your heart is full of questions."

He leaned closer, barely noting that the point of his staff had pierced the mortal's skin slightly.

"I have the answers."

Nigma could see everything that he was seeing, Loki knew, could feel everything he was uncovering as he rooted around inside his mind. The human's entire, pathetically short life passed smoothly through Loki's mind in a matter of seconds. They were rather alike in some ways. Intensely gifted, never acknowledged, always in the shadow of the loud and obnoxious. Never taken seriously because their gifts didn't center on brute force.

"Why do you insist on fighting me?" He asked, genuinely curious, "You have no reason to protect them. Those..._weaklings_. You know as well as I what pathetic creatures humans are."

The mortal shuddered, hands pawing weakly at Loki's shoulders as though trying to push him away. Or perhaps lean on him for support, as the strain on his mind and body was clearly growing more agonizing.

"I..." He choked out through gritted teeth, eyes clenched shut with effort, "I..._am _human..."

Loki scoffed.

"But what have your fellow humans ever done for you?" He called up the memories in the human's mind as he spoke.

_A dark closet with broken, yellowed slatted doors. Cowering in the shadows and then a huge hand and a bellow of mingled triumph and rage. _

"It was a human who beat you senseless as a child."

_A smirking, handsome face, an empty office, a mocking laugh._

"It was a human who cheated you out of your due at Competitron."

_The buzz of a lock, Bolton's dark eyes, cold fists._

"It was a human who raped you in Arkham."

Nigma gasped, knees buckling, eyes flying wide-_blue_ eyes.

Loki smirked triumphantly, releasing his grip on the mortal and letting him fall to hands and knees, shoulders heaving. The bony hands clenched into fists, nails scraping at the rough floor. Angry tears and drops of blood from a split lip and the punctured skin of the human's chest spattered and mingled on the cold concrete.

Loki nudged the underside of his chin with the curved head of the staff, tilting his head back. The blue-glowing eyes behind his rectangular glasses were full of hate. But not of Loki.

"How will you serve me?" Loki prompted, well aware of the response.

"Without question," the mortal hissed in a voice thick with tears and rage, "Without hesitation." The pale face twisted into a cruel, manic smile, totally without mirth. "_Without mercy."_


End file.
